, New York Review of Books, 2001, p.47: He told him that he saw a vast multitude and a promiscuous, their habitations like molehills, the men as emmets […]

This is hard-core London, and just before Farringdon station you will be able to glimpse the vast steel pipe that carries what was the Fleet River and is now the Fleet sewer over your head. The Fleet looks safely contained now, although you never know. It surprises me that no terrorist has made common cause with the surly and embittered Fleet, which, in Peter Ackroyd's words became 'a river of death' as it sidled through the meanest streets of London en route to the Thames.

[…] quite often her husband and Jo did not eat at home, or sat icily silent through a meal.

Whatever camp you fell into, however, it’s true that baggy, oversize pants are staging a comeback, in part because of the Covid-sparked focus on comfortwear, and in part because, as Laura Brown, the editor and creative consultant, said, there’s something about the swish of that much fabric around the legs that can make you “feel very ‘stride-y.’”